


my heart just burst like a glass balloon

by flashlightinacave



Category: Never Have I Ever (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Pining, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, and Devi and Ben have a 700 word argument about altruism, i only know how to write scientific metaphors, slightly canon divergent, so this fic has some gratuitous biology metaphors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24255802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashlightinacave/pseuds/flashlightinacave
Summary: From his research, Ben remembered one critical thing about soulmates: that you had to establish a real connection with your soulmate before you realized who they were. That way, you were not obligated to your universe assigned soulmate in any way. For once, the universe seemed to support the idea of building relationships, through all their hardships, rather than forcing two individuals together through a thread of misattributed destiny. “Soulmates are not found, they are made,” Ben remembered reading. You could easily live your whole life without ever meeting your match, and be perfectly, blissfully happy.or; Devi and Ben, mostly canon compliant Soulmate AU
Relationships: Ben Gross/Devi Vishwakumar
Comments: 31
Kudos: 219





	my heart just burst like a glass balloon

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Because I have no impulse control and I adore these two with all my heart, I have written another piece of fanfiction. This one is kind of a soulmate AU, although, in the grand scheme of things, the idea that they're "soulmates" isn't the most important thing and doesn't have a huge impact on any plot development. 
> 
> Because it's my writing and I only know how to write metaphors that are scientific, there are a few gratuitous biology metaphors written in here and Devi and Ben get into an argument about the existence of altruism, which is based on a real argument I've had, but modified to suit their characters.
> 
> This is basically canon-compliant, however, Ben doesn't throw a birthday party, otherwise, it completely works with what happens on the show.
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy and please come scream about this show and Devi and Ben in particular with me on Tumblr where I'm @montygreen
> 
> The title comes from the Marina and the Diamonds song "Hermit the Frog"

Ben first noticed the newfound infuriating itchiness on his arm on the bus back from Model UN. He didn’t think much of it at the time, passing it off instead as an allergic reaction to whatever ungodly ingredients were wafting out of Mr. Shapiro’s egg salad.

Of course, he knew how soulmates and soulmarks worked, he’d done his research, but the idea of him having formed a connection with someone that could be the catalyst to something like this was frankly laughable. The only person who he’d noticed his relationship with growing and developing with on this trip was Devi, but then she’d gone and ruined that— in typical Devi fashion — and declared nuclear war on him.

He’d been a little concerned about her afterwards. Sure, Devi wasn’t his favourite person, but he wasn’t a complete monster. Her gaze had been cast out the bus window, her shoulders bunched with tension, and her expression was sombre. Ben had almost been tempted to take the seat next to her and do something he’d never done before — ask what was wrong and how he could help. But when Devi had noticed him staring and snapped at him, he squashed that new foreign feeling down. 

From his research, Ben remembered one critical thing about soulmates: that you had to establish a real connection with your soulmate before you realized who they were. That way, you were not obligated to your universe assigned soulmate in any way. For once, the universe seemed to support the idea of building relationships, through all their hardships, rather than forcing two individuals together through a thread of misattributed destiny. “Soulmates are not found, they are made,” Ben remembered reading. You could easily live your whole life without ever meeting your match, and be perfectly, blissfully happy.

That was why the itch on his arm, if it was the formation of a soulmark, (it was _definitely_ not, it was _definitely_ an allergic reaction to _something_ ), was meaningless and unimportant.

(He couldn’t quite keep himself from scratching away at the itchy area on his wrist until it was red and raw.)

That night when Ben got back to his empty, lonely home, he focused on the now tender patch of skin. A red tint covered what was now undeniably a soulmark. What it was meant to depict wasn’t clear yet, but under the red glow, he identified muted swirls of yellow, blue, and white. He’d learned in AP Psychology that the principle he was applying was colour constancy, it explained how he could identify the colours of the mark despite it being obscured by a ruby glow courtesy of an entire bus ride of itching. 

He thought back to Devi again, annoyed at his mind for constantly drifting back to her. They’d had a nice conversation the night before, alcohol seeming to numb the bark of their verbal sparring into something almost friendly. She’d been even kind of pretty, dressed in her blazer, red bringing out the warm tones of her skin. He’d never thought about Devi in that way before.

 _Soulmarks only form once you’ve formed a healthy connection with your match_ , his subconscious reminded him. Pity the universe thought that a healthy connection was a conversation laced with alcohol. He couldn’t imagine he and Devi ever being so civil otherwise. Hell, he often felt hatred for Devi similar to his hatred for converting a function into its respective Taylor or McLaurin Series. 

Okay, that wasn’t a fair hit, there was nothing he hated with an equal passion to Taylor Series.

(Of course, it wasn’t a fair hit because he didn’t hate Devi even a little bit, not even at all. It was as though she’d burrowed into his brain, like some kind prion, changing the shape of the very proteins that comprised him. Perhaps that was why the patch on his wrist had formed, maybe his relationship with her really was changing. Maybe that was why he couldn’t stop thinking about her: her fiery passion and her stupidly beautiful brown eyes. She was changing him on a macromolecular level and he was helpless to stop it.) 

As he scratched at the mark again, he wondered if Devi was noticing the same change.

Or if she wasn’t because the change wasn’t symbolic of their relationship shifting at all. It could very much be someone else on the Model UN Team who he’d been moderately nicer to during the trip. 

(Deep down, he knew that denying it was stupid, it had to be because of Devi. She was the only one he couldn’t get out of his head.)

* * *

Devi first noticed telltale yet unfamiliar itch after her mother invited her nemesis over for dinner. Eating dinner across from Ben Gross was something she’d never expected, but she couldn’t help but laugh at his inability to tolerate the mildest food Kamala had ever prepared. She wasn’t surprised that spice tolerance was yet another category in which she was superior to Ben, but the confirmation was glorious. 

Yet, all the same, she felt a certain appreciation towards Ben. He had been presented with the opportunity to rat her out to her mom, to ruin her life in more ways than one, but he’d chosen not to. Instead, he’d complimented her diplomatic abilities. Later, when they’d stood in her kitchen drying pots and putting away dishes, she confessed about Paxton. Rather than the mocking and jeering she’d expected from her long time nemesis, he’d given her an understanding look — his bold blue eyes like an ocean she could drown in — and comforted her by revealing one of his insecurities.

Then suddenly, they were laughing together, something unfamiliar but not unwelcome in their year-long rivalry. Ben had a nice laugh, the tone warm and melodious, causing a fizz in Devi’s belly that she usually associated with ogling Paxton. His eyes crinkled when he laughed, and dimples formed on his cheeks as he grinned ear to ear. Genuine happiness almost made him look cute.

 _Stop it_ , he subconscious chastised her. Ben Gross was not cute, he was just Ben. Ben who’d tormented her and who she’d tormented with equal fire since the first grade. Ben who told the entire school she was an unfuckable nerd. Ben who was surprisingly polite to her mom and cousin and even attributed his inability to eat Kamala’s spicy food as a sign of his weakness. Ben who didn’t rat her out to her mother and was surprisingly understanding and kind.

(It was as though Ben’s constancy in her life had integrated itself into her genome. As if she was initially genetically encoded to despise him, then suddenly with the flip switch, or some more complicated genetic cascade, that bitterness had faded away. And yes, Devi had taken biology, she knew this metaphor was nonsensical, but it was the best way to explain her changing thoughts and feelings. It was always easier to explain things on an inherent biological level than as choices made with her own free will.)

Devi first noticed the itch once Ben had left and she was back up in her room. It was the infuriating itch she’d read about in almost every classic piece of literature. The strange tingly feeling that stretched the length of one’s wrist that was indicative of the formation of a soulmark. Surely this couldn’t be because she’d been civil towards Ben. It couldn’t be. 

Her father had taught her all about soulmarks when she was little. Every person in the universe had a match and they and their match would develop identical colourful patterns on their wrists if they formed a true bond. The colourful patterns would be indistinguishable at first, an abstract swirl of colours, and the true picture would only form if the two decided to pursue the connection. It was two choices in that way, her father had explained: the choice to bond with your match and the additional choice to further extend the connection. 

Devi knew better than to scratch her wrist, the marks always took longer to form on irritated skin, and a longer formation time led to more itchy frustration. It was a vicious cycle, the more you irritated the forming mark, the more it itched, and therefore, the more you were tempted to scratch. 

So she’d squashed every temptation to scratch and waited.

Hours later, she glanced at her wrist again and noticed the chaotic pattern that now painted her skin. A beautiful, blurred spiral of blue, yellow and white. Devi scoffed, it still seemed ridiculous that such a small insignificant design held so much power.

* * *

History class the next day passed in a blur, Mr. Shapiro’s attempts to be progressive falling flatter than usual. Ben could barely suppress a groan when Mr. Shapiro mentioned that the next topic they’d be covering in class was the Holocaust and cast a sympathetic glare in Ben’s direction. Mercifully, the class came to an end before Mr. Shapiro finished his off-topic spiel on Myxoma virus (how class so often ended up on an unrelated tangent Ben wondered.)

He packed his things and got ready for lunch with haste, before an all too familiar grip fastened around his arm. Ben spun around to meet the defiant expression of Devi Vishwakumar. “We need to have a conversation, Gross,” she said and before he could object or protest, Devi dragged him out of the class and into a secluded corner of the hallway.

Devi glanced around the hallway and once she noticed that few people remained, she began to unbutton the cuff of her shirt. “Planning on exposing yourself to me, David? I mean, I always knew you were obsessed with me, but not in that way.”

Devi pinched him and he let out an involuntary cry. “Shut up! This is important.” She finished rolling up her sleeve and exposed the design etched on her arm. It was a painted swirl of blue, yellow and white, identical to the mark on his arm. _Shit._ “I saw yours when we were sitting in history class,” she said gesturing towards his soulmark. “I mean the universe has _got_ to be kidding, right? There is absolutely no way that you’re my soulmate!”

“Believe me,” Ben sneered, “I’m not thrilled about it either, David.”

“I mean, this doesn’t have to mean anything right, that’s the whole point of this stupid system, soulmates are optional, right?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe if you just go back to being a dick to me, it’ll fade away and we can pretend this never happened.”

“If I recall correctly, you were always equally mean to me,” Ben retorted.

Devi looked up at him with an unfamiliar amount of vulnerability in her eyes. She looked even more beautiful in her vulnerability (Shut up brain, Devi Vishwakumar was NOT beautiful). “Ben,” she said, more softly this time, “I’m being serious right now.”

“I know you’re being serious.” Ben snapped back. “We’re rivals! We’re supposed to be at each other’s throats, not—” He gestured wildly and when it was clear Devi continued to fail to understand him, he did something stupidly impulsive, he stepped forward and kissed her. 

Devi kissed back the way she fought, full of aggression and a desire to dominate. Ben let out a yelp when she pushed him against the lockers, her hands roaming through his hair, across his shoulders, down his back. He pulled her against him, almost harshly, desperate to get her closer, even though he was certain they’d never be close enough. She fiercely bit his lip, sharply enough to draw blood, and suddenly her tongue was in his mouth. It was as though she wanted to ravage him, to bring about his utter destruction. And she was succeeding, he felt any and all resolve crumble under the intensity of her fervour.

Then suddenly, just as impulsively as he kissed her, he pulled away. 

He cleared his throat. “Not that. We’re not the type of people who—” He glanced frantically at the floor before meeting Devi’s eyes again. “You know...” God, he was a disaster, he couldn’t even get the word out.

Devi straightened out her shirt and nodded. “For once, I agree with you.” She ran a hand through her hair trying to smooth it out. “That was just a meaningless kiss, enough for me to know that we don’t have to pursue this match.”

“Right,” Ben agreed, nodding his head, “meaningless.”

(Of course, Ben knew that was a lie. Devi Vishwakumar had invaded him like a virus and taken over his cells to create viral machinery, so all he could think about was her, her, her. Perhaps the soulmark on his arm, which had changed to depict a clearer picture, the skyline of a vaguely recognizable beach, was a symptom. Ben knew how the immune system worked, symptoms were simply the response to fighting off infection, but Devi persisted. It was as though she was something he was incapable of fighting, something his body had surrendered to completely and entirely. She wasn’t just any normal virus, she was a retrovirus. She was altering his genome and immune system so completely that he would never truly be free of her.)

* * *

That evening Devi couldn’t stop staring at her wrist. The once chaotic colourful swirls now depicted a beautiful landscape, a beach with golden sand and crystal blue water. (The blue was a similar shade to Ben’s eyes.)

She couldn’t stop thinking about Ben either. She couldn’t believe he had the audacity to steal her first kiss like that. How dare he? That was something she treasured and in her fantasies dreamed she would share with Paxton. Ben had no right, it was not his for the taking.

(She couldn’t deny that he was pretty good at it though. He’d kissed her the way she’d read about in countless books and works of fanfiction, with passion and fervour, but still left her in control. She’d liked having that much power over him. She’d liked the way he’d crumbled under her fingertips.)

No. She was angry at him for stealing something sacred from her. And she couldn’t believe that one meaningless (albeit fiery) kiss was enough for the full picture of her soulmark to form. She groaned and buried her head in her pillow. 

Maybe if she and Ben went back to constant bickering, the pattern etched on her arm would disappear. She wanted to do whatever it took to send the universe a message, she did not belong with Ben Gross, full stop. If that required adding even further fuel to their rivalry, she would do it.

(Of course, what scared her was she didn’t want to go back to being mean to Ben. He’d exposed a certain amount of vulnerability to her when her mother had invited him over for dinner. She’d liked that side of Ben: the side who was willing to listen to her and laugh with her, and who had a stupid smile that made her feel like a million butterflies were beating their wings against her every single organ. She didn’t want to give that up. She didn’t want to return to their bitter antagonistic relationship. She liked having Ben on her team. And since it seemed she’d burned all her bridges with Eleanor and Fabiola, right now, Ben was the only friend she had.)

She needed to apologize to Eleanor and Fabiola, she quickly decided. She’d been terrible to them lately and she needed to make amends. (And perhaps with her two best friends back on her team, it would be easier to push Ben away.)

The next day, Devi stepped into the courtyard, filled with determination. She was going to earn the forgiveness of Eleanor and Fabiola, no matter how much grovelling it took. They had stood by her through thick and thin and now she needed to do the same for them. She spotted her two friends sitting on a bench and—

Wait, what the hell was Ben doing talking to her friends?

What was he telling them? Was he telling them that the two of them had kissed? Devi felt herself boil over with absolute fury. 

First, Ben had gone and stolen her first kiss, and now, he was tarnishing her reputation and ruining her chance to reconcile with her friends! How dare he?

Furious, Devi stormed over to where the three were seated, but she stopped when she was close enough to notice the sadness on Fabiola’s face. Keeping her distance for a while longer, Devi watched Fabiola murmur something to Eleanor and that was when Ben Gross surprised her yet again.

Devi watched as he took a seat next to Fabiola and focused on her intently. Fabiola looked up at him a dubious expression on her face and when he offered a small, but comforting smile (the very same smile Devi remembered him giving when she’d felt comfortable enough to share her vulnerabilities with him), Devi witnessed Fabiola’s floodgates spill open. Devi couldn’t make out what Fabiola was saying, but she kept talking, and talking, and talking. It was as if she’d needed to say whatever she was saying for a long time and had been forced to hold it in. Devi couldn’t help but feel guilty that she had been so self-involved that Fabiola couldn’t be this open and honest with her.

Devi felt awkward watching this conversation play out, yet it felt wrong to intrude, so she continued to observe. When Fabiola had finally stopped talking, Devi watched Ben place his hand atop hers and offer a comforting squeeze. She couldn’t quite make out what he said, but whatever it was made Fabiola laugh. _Probably a science joke_ , Devi assumed, as she watched genuine happiness radiate from her friend's face. She hadn’t seen Fabiola that happy in a long time.

Perhaps she’d been misjudging Ben this entire time. 

He’d just been there for her friends when she hadn’t been. At that very moment, he’d been a better friend to both Fabiola and Eleanor than she had been in a long time.

She stared at the pattern on her arm. Perhaps he wasn’t the worst person for her to be matched with. If he’d been able to bring comfort to her friends, he might be able to do the same for when she needed it. (He had already comforted her, of course, that night after he’d eaten dinner with her family, the night her soulmark had first formed.)

As little as she wanted to admit it, Ben seemed to be a person she could trust.

(Reevaluating her opinion on Ben scared her quite a bit. Devi had learned that most symbiotic relationships started as parasitic ones, where one individual stole from the other for selfish benefit. However, over eons, two organisms could evolve to form a mutualistic relationship. On some fundamental level, it felt like she and Ben had been evolving for eons and that they were always destined to meet on this crash course of life. It was as if they were always meant to go from being each other’s enemies to each other’s friends.)

* * *

“Can I move in with you?”

Devi’s words came as a shock to Ben who had been trying to babble an apology about kissing her days before.

He stared at Devi, mouth agape as he tried to process her request — _She wanted to live with him? Why?_ — and found his eyes drawn to the mark on his wrist.

Ben Gross always had something to say: usually some withering insult, or witty comeback, but for the first time in his life, he was absolutely speechless.

He finally looked up to meet Devi’s eyes again, tuning back into reality, only to realize she was rambling. 

“It’s just… things with my mom aren't good right now and.... Oh my god! I shouldn’t have asked— that was stupid!” she gave a nervous laugh, “You must think I’m such an idiot! Maybe Eleanor or Fabiola, even though they’re still mad at me can help. Maybe—”

“Yes,” Ben said, cutting her off.

He felt his heart soar when Devi smiled, like truly smiled, not the condescending smirk she gave when she beat him on a text or assignment, it was a soft upturn of her lips borne of happiness and relief. “Really?” her voice was hopeful and still a little frightened.

“Of course,” Ben replied. He was taken aback when Devi flung herself into his arms. It took a few seconds for his brain to kick back into gear, but once it had he wrapped his arms around her in the return and held her close.

Ben knew his parents wouldn’t mind, they were never home, in fact, having a house guest might make them feel less guilty about constantly leaving him. Living with Devi would be a good thing, he would just have to shove all the feelings he knew she didn’t reciprocate down deep and be a good host.

* * *

Living with Ben was… surprisingly easy. 

Devi was invited to stay in their Doobie Brothers themed guest room, a room larger than any bedroom she’d seen in her life, decorated with merchandise and memorabilia. “They’re my father’s favourite clients,” Ben had explained when he’d given her a tour of the house the day she’d moved in with him. “But we can remove any weird merchandise you don’t want in there, of course.”

There was only one mortifying moment that Devi could remember. It was the second day she was living with Ben and she’d just gotten out of the shower. Devi was getting ready for the day when she realized, rummaging through the duffle bag she’d brought along, she had forgotten her deodorant.

Ben had some right? She could just borrow it from him. Without a second thought, she stepped into Ben’s bedroom, only wrapped in a towel, her wet hair dripping, to ask.

“Can I use your deodorant?”

Ben peered up upon hearing her voice and his face turned beet red. He stumbled into his bathroom, where Devi heard a moderate amount of thrashing around, before stumbling out and tossing a spare towards her. In any other moment, Devi would have mocked him for the type of deodorant he used, but in that instant, she’d simply gotten out of his room as fast as she could as if she’d only just realized her state of dress.

But other than that, something neither had mentioned over breakfast that day or at school, things had been pretty simple, incredible even.

Patty prepared meals for the two of them and seemed happy to cater to whatever Devi requested. They did their school work at the same time and studied together — Ben was even willing to quiz her, though usually, her flashcards ended up being thrown in his face. To wind down, Ben let her play against him on one of his many video game consoles and they would watch movies and TV together. Patty always prepared a bowl of popcorn for the two, however, most of the pieces ended up on the floor when the two pelted them at each other (or rather, when Devi pelted them at Ben.)

The first few nights, Ben let Devi pick what to watch and she convinced him to watch _Anne With An E._ She was disappointed that he didn’t seem nearly as captivated by the show as she was. “I just find Anne kind of frustrating,” Ben told her and in response, Devi had whacked him more forcefully than usual. After three nights, Ben put his foot down and sent her a text during the day at school saying he was choosing what they would watch tonight. That night, they’d started _Westworld_ , which Devi didn’t enjoy at all. 

“Ben,” she said, halfway through the second episode. “This is boring and I hate the plot.”

“It’s not boring,” Ben scoffed. “We’re in a golden age of television and this is one of the best new shows there is.” He jumped up and sprinted to his room, returning with a piece of paper. “Look, I made a map of the plot to explain the show!”

“Ben,” Devi repeated, this time more annoyed, “if I need a map to remember the plot of this show then it’s not a show worth watching.” She tossed a piece of popcorn in her mouth. “The only good part of this show is Thandie Newton and she’s not in it nearly enough.”

After bickering about TV for a while, Devi and Ben had finally settled on watching _The Good Place_. It was the perfect balance, enough intellectual stimulation for Ben and enough humour and lightheartedness for Devi. (‘TV is about winding down, Ben, not using your brain and overanalyzing,’ Devi told him harshly.)

They both became hooked almost instantly and were already towards the end of the second season. “Ben.” she poked him in the chest. He turned to her, blue eyes wide and gorgeous. “What do you think the most altruistic action on this show is, cause I’ve been debating between Michael sacrificing himself to save Team Cockroach and—”

“I don’t think any of their actions are altruistic,” Ben said, interrupting her.

Devi narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry? You what?”

“Sorry, let me repeat that more slowly so you understand, I don’t think any of their actions are altruistic.” He placed a few kernels of popcorn into his mouth. “I don’t think any action is altruistic, in truth”

Devi shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense, I don’t understand.” She swatted his arm.

“Well, it’s simple, I’m a psychological egoist, which means I believe that all human actions are rooted in selfishness.” Ben lifted the remote to pause the show. “Even the most selfless things you can do, like save a person’s life or raising your children are all rooted in selfishness.”

Devi snorted and rolled her eyes. “First of all, I know what a psychological egoist is, I have functioning brain cells, unlike you, and second, Ben, that’s absolutely ridiculous.” She pelted a few kernels of popcorn at him. “Of course human actions can be altruistic.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “You know, David, I’m not exactly hearing a counter-argument.” He had that infuriating smug look he got on his face when he thought he’d won an argument against her.

“Ugh! Shut up!” She jabbed Ben in the ribs. “You want my counter-argument? Here’s my counter-argument.” She threw several more pieces of popcorn at him. “Clearly, Ben, you’re misunderstanding a painfully basic philosophical concept, the difference between selfishness and self-interest.” Devi stuffed a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “Selfishness is when you act for your benefit at the expense of others, so like when you run a red light. Self-interest is about taking care of one's own needs without harming other people. How could raising one’s children possibly be selfishly motivated?”

“It’s simple,” Ben said. “If you do a good job parenting your children, they’ll be good to you when you grow old and need them. Besides, you’ll also have the evolutionary benefit of direct fitness in passing on your genes to the next generation so, really, the whole idea of having offspring is inherently selfish.”

“Ben,” Devi said, sighing exasperatedly. She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Ben, Ben, Ben. Ben. I hate to break it to you, but just because something ends up benefiting you in the long run, it doesn’t mean the action is selfishly motivated.” She elbowed him again and Ben let out an involuntary yelp. “For example, when I helped those idiots in our chemistry class last year with identifying organic functional groups, I didn’t do it for self-satisfaction, I did it because helping people is a good thing. Just because it made me feel good when people understood the concept, that doesn’t mean I only did the action in pursuit of that feeling.”

Ben arched an eyebrow again and smirked at her. “But you admit that it made you feel good, so in the long run the action was selfish, was it not?”

“I could have spent that time getting my work done, I think being helpful came at some personal expense to me.” Devi groaned and rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re mixing up motivation and consequences now.”

“Well, if you really want to get into it, Virtue Ethics, Consequentialism, and Deontology are all valid ethical frameworks, there’s a whole episode of the show where Chidi explains that—”

Devi let out another groan. “Ben, stop.”

Ben flashed his trademarked infuriating smirk. “Only when you admit that I’m superior to you in every way.”

“Over my dead body!” Devi cried out before lifting the bowl of popcorn that rested between them and dumping its remaining contents over Ben’s head.

“This is 1000 dollar silk!”

“Ben, if those pyjamas cost you 1000 dollars, they should be freaking bulletproof, let alone able to withstand a popcorn attack.” 

Ben scoffed in response and crossed his arms over his chest in mock annoyance.

Devi stuck out her tongue and swatted Ben again, resulting in him playfully hitting her back. She grabbed one of the many pillows on the couch and whacked him with it, giggling while she did so. 

Suddenly they were play fighting like small children, trading hits and laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, you’ve really done it now, David,” Ben said after she delivered a particularly forceful whack. He grabbed another pillow and raised it, as if to strike her, practically climbing on top of her as he did so. 

Upon noticing their new positions, they both froze. Ben’s deep blue eyes met hers and he held her gaze, as if they were both scared to look away. He was so close to her, she could feel his breath ghost across her cheek, it was ragged and rapid, just as she knew hers was. Despite all the times Devi had mocked Ben for being skinny, she could tell he was surprisingly toned and muscular from under his thin silk pyjama top and she longed to run her hands along his chest. She felt her eyes drift down from his intense gaze to his lips and wondered what it would be like to kiss him again. It certainly didn’t help that she knew Ben was a good kisser, as hard as she tried to couldn’t quite get that passionate embrace they’d shared out of her head. She looked up and into his eyes again, searching for an invitation to do what she so desperately wanted.

But then she remembered that he already had someone. Shira.

Devi Vishwakumar may have been a hothead, she may have been impulsive and quick-tempered, she may have been reckless and made the occasional stupid decision, but she was not a homewrecker. 

She looked away from Ben frantically and backed away from him. She grabbed her phone and stood up, awkwardly clearing her throat. “Goodnight, Ben,” she said quietly before she made her way back to the guest room without a second thought.

* * *

There was (very unfortunately) no guide on the internet for how to cohabitate with your former nemesis, who was also your soulmate, who you had just realized you had feelings for. (Ben searched the internet pretty meticulously with absolutely no success.)

Guide or not, the one thing he did know was necessary, however, was ending things with Shira. His relationship with her was already unfulfilling, but now that his complicated feelings for Devi had burst to the surface, he was finally brave enough to take the plunge.

Her response had been a non-response in the end. She seemed absolutely apathetic. 

Ben had called her, asking to meet up, not wanting to be that asshole that broke off a committed relationship over phone or text, but Shira had claimed she had no free time. Something about getting her brows sculpted, and an abundance of already paid for manicures and pedicures that kept her busy for the foreseeable future. 

Absolutely exhausted and feeling defeated Ben told her they needed to break up. 

“Mkay,” Shira replied and Ben could practically hear her shrug of indifference through the phone. She’d hung up before he could even get another word in, before he could even utter an apology for dating her for popularity and status. (But since Shira had only been dating him for his money, perhaps he didn’t owe her anything in the end.)

Not even a minute later, Ben noticed Shira had posted an Instagram story that consisted of an unsurprisingly flawless selfie overlaid with glittery text that read “Single and ready to mingle.” He pinched his brow, let out a sigh, and decided he needed to turn off his phone for the night.

Try as he might to turn his brain off and go to sleep, Ben couldn’t stop thinking about Devi. The way her brown eyes had met his, the way he heard her breath hitch when he’d basically climbed on top of her (good lord, what was he thinking?), the way her eyes darted to his lips, the way it would have been so painfully easy for him to swoop down and kiss her.

It would have been a horrible mistake if he had, so he was almost thankful that Devi had pulled back. He was hosting her and she was his guest, kissing her (despite how much he wanted to and now how convinced he was that she had wanted him too), would have been incredibly inappropriate.

Ben just hoped that things would be able to not be permanently infused with awkwardness for however much longer Devi would be staying with him. 

The next morning over breakfast, however, it seemed nothing had changed. Devi acted no differently towards him than normal and neither bothered to mention the events of the night before. Conversation flowed freely between them and Ben couldn’t keep a smitten smile from colouring his face as he looked at her.

He almost told Devi that he’d ended things with Shira, but the very last thing he wanted to do was pressure her. She’d rejected him the night before, he wasn’t going to continue to pathetically throw himself at her if she wasn’t interested. He’d broken up with Shira because he knew he wasn’t happy in that relationship anymore (not that he ever was), not to make himself available for Devi.

(He knew that he wanted her, but he also knew that she wasn’t his for the taking.)

Because Devi Vishwakumar was nothing if not fiercely decisive. Once she made a decision, it was almost impossible to convince her to change her mind, that was something Ben had learned about her from years of being at each other’s throats. 

Or rather, Ben knew he could not convince her to change her mind. 

That was why, when Devi told him she was refusing to join her mother in spreading her father’s ashes, Ben knew exactly what he needed to do.

* * *

Devi Vishwakumar was kissing Ben Gross.

And it was shockingly… good. 

His hand was cupping the back of her head and he was holding her gently, as if she was the most precious thing in the world. It was the absolute antithesis to the way he’d kissed her before, all fire and ardour and anger. This kiss was still passionate, but somehow tender and loving.

When she’d found him waiting for her, asleep in his car, the realization struck her clear as day, Ben was a constant in her life. He was a true north, a polar star, a fixed point in her chaotically spinning and changing world, however it was she wanted to describe the idea that he had always been and always would be there for her. 

He’d been this painful thorn in her side, yet all the same, he’d pushed her to be the best she could be academically speaking. He’d been cruel to her after she lost her father and the ability to use her legs, yet he’d been the only person who didn’t treat her like a porcelain doll. Their continued rivalry had been the only thing that could keep her mind off her grief. Whether dominating Ben in class, or coming in pitiful second place, the moments she competed with him were some of the only ones she wasn’t thinking about how much she missed her dad. This week alone, he’d done more for her than anyone ever had before: he’d let her live with him, somehow stopped her from making a decision she would have regretted forever, driven her to Malibu, and on top of all that, he’d stayed.

Finally surrendering to everything she’d felt building between them seemed to be the inevitable answer, so she kissed him, chaste and quickly. It was more of a peck than anything else, something she could pass off as a simple token of appreciation if it turned out her feelings were unreciprocated. 

Never had she been so glad to be wrong because the way Ben was kissing her right now, was nothing she could have been prepared for by any piece of literature. The way he was kissing her made her feel alive.

When they finally parted, the hand Ben had buried in her hair, was now gently cupping her cheek.

“I have wanted to do that for such a long time.” He gently brushed his thumb against her jawline, causing Devi to shiver.

“Me too,” Devi agreed. She met Ben’s gorgeous blue eyes again, they were blooming with affection, as if all the emotions he’d tried to suppress could now shine freely. “What about Shira?” Devi asked, unable to keep her mind from wandering.

“I broke up with her,” Ben confessed, “last night.” He let out a breath and they were still so close together that Devi felt it tickle her skin. “It didn’t seem fair for me to be with her once I knew I had feelings for you.”

Devi felt a smile break out across her face and her eyes drifted the mark on her wrist, the one that had been the catalyst for this whole thing. (Not the whole thing, her subconscious reminded her, she’d had the final say in what had happened.) She glanced out at the horizon before looking at Ben again. “I think I finally know what our soulmarks represent.”

Ben raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“The Malibu skyline, here, now. I think that it may be a sign that we were always supposed to end up here.” 

Ben kissed her again, this time soft and slow and Devi let out an involuntary contented sigh at the contact. “I couldn’t possibly agree more,” he murmured against her lips. “Though I would be happy to be anywhere if it was like this. With you.”

Devi laughed and playfully rolled her eyes. “I always knew you were obsessed with me, Gross.”

“No more than you are with me.” He swiped the pad of his thumb against her bottom lip. “David.”


End file.
